


Bloody Feather

by Mask



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel)
Genre: Affection, Amputation, Amputation Kink, Bad Ending, Blood, Declarations Of Love, Graphic Description, M/M, Masochism, Personality Swap, Sadism, Severe Masochism, Surgery, Warped Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mask/pseuds/Mask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clear wants to show his love, and Shiroba will let him with blood and tears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Feather

**Author's Note:**

> For mezmere on tumblr. Taken sometime last year. This is the unedited version, which includes more description about the Other/Desire/Shiroba losing his leg.

He curled and uncurled his fingers, unable to reach the amputated leg. He had a smile on his face though; he remembered the blinding pain he was previously in, and he ached for it again. His mind was still dizzy with the liquid Clear had used on him, but it was okay. He was recovering rather nicely. The android smiled, tilting his head as he approached the male strapped down on the table.

          “Ne, Aoba-san. Are you ready to begin?”

          Shiroba grinned strangely to one side. He laughed, shoulders shaking with the motion. “Do your worst. _Please_ don’t hold back.”

Why not dab a pretty word in there? Yes, _please_ , make it hurt. Make him bleed and scream – it was the best treatment he could ask for. Clear reached forward, cupping Shiroba’s face, and he leaned down.

          “You’ll make such a pretty doll. You’ll be mine forever…” 

Forever was an _awful_ long time, but if Clear could keep him interested, enraptured in this awfully good pain, then sure. He would go along with it.

          “It had better be worth it.” 

Clear smiled so loving and warm, but there was something in his eyes. It was a strained sense of being. Not quite fatigue, but something in him had snapped _months_ ago. And Shiroba was thankful for it. Clear pulled back, walking away to change his gloves. He wheeled over his instruments. They weren’t meticulously taken care off, but they were cleaned well enough to where their efficiency wasn’t compromised. Not that Shiroba would have cared – let the instrument malfunction and catch on his skin. Let it cut through to his bone only to stammer and whir out of control. Oh… _but_ he let Clear orchestrate things as he must. The android was rather adept at removing human parts, if Shiroba’s stump of a left leg was much to attribute to. 

The most painful bits were never the white skin that was peeled and cut away nor was it ever the surface muscle that was pierced and damaged. No, the pain came the android surgically moved deeper, trying to find just the right area to sever Shiroba’s leg. Out of reflex, the stark white’s right leg went into spasm, toes splayed out as the pain overwhelmed his nerves.

Shiroba moaned aloud, brows furrowing together as his fingers dug into his palms. He struggled to sit up, wanting to watch the process, but sadly, that was a privilege Clear had denied him of. Something squelched, and Shiroba choked on his pleasure, head conking back against the cold table. He heard Clear make a noise of distaste, and the restrained male laughed through his ecstasy. Blood had probably splattered into his face again. March on, little toy solider. Don't let a little blood impede your progress.

It came to point where Shiroba could no longer feel his leg. It was sort of attached by some strange sense of presence. The pain was so intense that he could hardly register it, but with the mayo scissors cutting clear across his tissue, it sent pleasurable little shocks firing through the entirety of his body. Just when Clear had everything perfectly cut to his tastes, he stood up and wiped his face. Shiroba lay on the table, palms pinpricked with blood from his fingernails. A rapid buzzing joined the white noise of his mind, and it was too late when he realised it was a power saw raring to tear through his leg. 

His scream was that of sheer bliss. He felt his body tense and arch, arms tugging at his restraints. He moaned out his partner’s name, eyes shut closed as he reveled in the raw intensity of his pain. Before he realized it, his body was overtaken by an overwhelming heat, and he laughed in some detached way. He knew… He knew he had came just from this; his body was overloaded with so many feelings. He almost missed when a weight fell from his body. Clear’s satisfied laughter brought him back to reality.

          “Aah, it’s finished,” Clear stated, standing up to move about to grab his supplies to stop the blood. 

          Shiroba cooed softly. “Ooh. Over already?” he laughed, hands shakily uncurling, revealing the thin lines of blood that had formed down his palms.

There was nothing for him to complain about, just yet. There was still the act of _dressing_ the wound that brought gratifying little aftershocks that crept up his spinal cord. He would wait for the next round, for Clear’s depravity to consume him bit by bit.

 

Oh it was a depravity they both shared – one that Shiroba could even love, but oh, what _rot_ that was.


End file.
